


A Pirates Life for Me?

by macgyvershe



Category: BBC Sherlock
Genre: Angry John, BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Ficlet, Fluff, Fun, Gen, Humor, John confiscates cutlass, Priate Sherlock, Sarcastic Sherlock, Sherlock gets injured fighting the bad guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:05:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is a pirate and gets hurt fighting the bad guys. Angry John needs to find out what happened, did I say Sherlock was being piratey?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pirates Life for Me?

“Now you stay right there, Sherlock.” Mrs. Hudson admonished him as he sat down in the living room. “John! Bring your medical bag, hurry, please!”

Quick stepping, John came in from his bedroom, his black leather medical bag (compliments of Sherlock on Boxing Day) in his hands. Sherlock sat on the couch holding a bloody handkerchief to his left cheek.

“What happened here?” John lifted Sherlock’s chin to better view his face. On his left cheek a gash was bleeding profusely. John immediately took a sterile gauze wipe and applied direct pressure to the wound.

“What have you been up to Sherlock? Mrs. Hudson can you get me a basin of hot water and some towels? This might get a bit messy.” 

“It’s only a tiny cut, John. I’ll be alright.”

“It’s a deep penetrating wound on your head and it’s bleeding rather profusely, which is good by the way. Hopefully, it will purge any debris that was left in the wound. We will still have to wash it out and you might need a few stitches.”

“Let me know when you need to sew. I’ll turn the pain receptors off in that area.” Sherlock said smugly, a look of bridled mirth on his face.

“Of course, you will.” John said sarcastically. “The bleedings stopped. Let’s take a look at you. This is not a tiny cut, Sherlock.”

“Here you go, John.” Mrs. Hudson handed him a basin and the towels. “Will you two be alright now? I have an appointment down town.”

“We’ll be fine, Mrs. Hudson, run along,” Sherlock said.

Mrs. Hudson went down the stairs, putting her coat on and exited the building; John applied an antiseptic to the wound. Finally, washing Sherlock’s face of any residual blood, John then rummaged through his med bag.

“Ah, you’re in luck I seem to have some surgical super glue left in my bag. Shall I glue everything shut?” 

“Proceed,” Sherlock was very aloof and imperious as John applied the glue and held the skin together as it dried.

Placing the bloody towels in the basin and putting everything on the floor, John sat opposite Sherlock, with his I-will-not-be-moved expression.

“So, are you going to tell me how you got hurt? Or is this one of your need to know operations?” John said leaning back in his chair and pinning Sherlock with his Captain’s glare.

“I was trying out my cutlass.” Sherlock said looking directly into John’s eyes.

“Oooookay,” John crinkled up his face in consternation, “well then, please thrill me with the details.

“I believe Mycroft told you that at an early age I wanted to become a pirate when I grew up.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that about you,” John wasn’t certain whether he should be amused or distressed about that fact.

“I never really followed that course. Solving mysteries caught my attention and I never looked back.”

“That still doesn’t explain this injury, Sherlock.”

 

“I acquired that cutlass,” Sherlock pointed to his great coat where the scabbard could just be seen peeking out from its inky folds. “It was easy enough to find some imbecilic criminals, doing horrendous things. I asked them to comply with my terms of surrender and move away from the crime scene, they refused as I hoped they would. A fight ensued. They pulled several knives and I pulled my cutlass. I did disarm them easily, but not before one of the knives was thrown. I deflected the blow, but the knife did nick me.” 

Coming up from his chair John crossed to Sherlock and grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“Sherlock, I want you to promise me that you won’t do this again, of all the idiotic, asinine things to do.” He then walked over to the cutlass, picked it up and turned toward Sherlock.

“I’m confiscating this item. It is going far, far away. What am I going to do with you?”

“What would give you greater pleasure, John, spanking me or making me sit in the corner?” Sherlock said with great sarcasm and a tiny crooked smile on his lips.

“Don’t tempt me Sherlock,” John said giving Sherlock a hard look.

“I’d never do that,” Sherlock said, being the consummate get-the-last-word-in smart ass.

“Sherlock!” John said exiting the room so he didn’t have to hear the next reply.


End file.
